Two Face
by Maelstrom1
Summary: Armada setting, our favorite turn-coat gives us a look into his spark....angsty, a different look style fic


Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers or any related party.  
  
Well I'm feelin a bit angsty today and figured I'd channel that into a writing fic...so enjoy.  
  
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I watch as a few moon rocks shatter before the fire of my lasers. It feels good just to shoot it out with anything, lets out the anger. I run my hands over my face, feeling the mouth plate, then the horns that jutted out to the side. Then with a simple mental command this face detaches from my neck and lands facing me, as a small robot now, the purple symbol leaving my chest. I the use another simple mental command and have the black robot with red accents besides the silver one to leap up, twisting in mid-air and landing where my other head had been. My eyes, now red, matching the red symbol now adorning my chest. So easy to change that. Affiliations mean nothing to me, nothing! I was created to destroy both sides, and to make that easier I was given these Head Master rip-offs. You'd think they would have been created with emotion chips, or personalities. I can't have any friends, any attachments. If I do I end up destroying them, just like I was meant to do.  
  
I fire another salvo at a random crag. It is reduced to dust in the blink of an eye. Just like any friendship I could have had. I still remember tackling Hot Shot and kicking the Star Sabre to Starscream. Hot Shot's look, right when I switched my affiliation symbols, he saw me for the two faced turn-coat I am. And it hurt. This bot was willing to give his only means of defense, in a vain ploy he probably knew would get us both captured and tortured, just to give me a chance. And I spit in his face. Not because I wanted to, because I had to, just to fit my master's twisted visions. Sure I agree with him. Don't know if I was brain-washed or I actually do believe his propaganda, but I honestly support him. I just wish I had a choice in the profession that I was created for. Only bot in centuries to have a Head Master program, just so I could sow chaos and disorder in the ranks of everyone. I wonder how many planets have fallen to my treachery now? I set it up so weaker, less capable leaders cause an uprising and take out the leaders, so when the new ones take over, they are to busy in the turmoil of a revolution to manage a planet eater coming down on top of them. There's not another bot like me in the universe, and it really sucks to see someone willing to give their life for yours, then kicking them in the gear-box.  
  
Love, friendship, things I'll never know, I'd do anything to feel them just once, but I also avoid them like the plague. Because once I experience these joys, I'll have to destroy them all, destroying myself in the process. Because if I didn't destroy myself for destroying them, my master would destroy me when I refused to destroy them. I make another quick mental command and the black and red robot pulls off my neck and lands besides the still kneeling silver one. This time they don't switch. A hissing sound is heard and a cylindrical looking head with a blue oval visor pops up, the motorcycle handles adorning me like antlers. My face now matched my color scheme, and there was no symbol for this face. No one save my master and his creations has seen this face. The problem with this face is that it is capable of no expression, therefore I find it an ironic portrait for myself. I am not able to express any emotions what so ever, lest I do, it will be my downfall. Don't confuse that with my sick humor and my Primus blessed tongue, I may not be the strongest bot out there, but I was made to be one helluva talker. I can smooth talk my way out of anything, and I could beguile the wittiest of leaders and the prettiest of femmes. Still, whatever I make them believe, they usually end up getting kicked square in the gear-box, like all the others. Which brings me back to the kid, all I can say is that I warned him, and didn't want to hurt him. Someday, they will all understand, unfortunately, they'll all be dead, and when master grants me whatever I want, I know what it will be. To lift my veil of deceit and treachery, and give me what I've longed for..  
  
A friend.  
  
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"Sideways!" The comm on the purple and yellow bot's arm crackled to life as he jumped involuntarily and the Mini-con known as Crosswise jumped up and became the bot's head.  
  
"Yes Megatron?" Sideways answered.  
  
"We need you back at base, a new Mini-con has been detected, move out on the double." The tyrant ordered before closing the link. Sideways sighed audibly and kicked the ground before switching to motorcycle mode and leaving the piles of moon dust behind.  
  
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I feel a bit better now, tell me what you think ok? 


End file.
